[Devoid of all possible symbolism— all potential expectation— it’s easy for Astarion to feel comfortable in this. Pleasantly at ease beneath the solid weight at his throat, head tilted higher to stare up at her with a contented upwards curl to his own lips.
Hands settling on either side of her waist, bracketing the whole of her narrow form; a tugging touch without any tangibly driving purpose, thumbs resting heavily without ever harshly digging.]
What’s a safe word?
[One little beat before, with a light, sudden gasp of understanding:]
—oh, you mean that thing people do when they give up. Got it.
[Teasing, of course. Mostly.
True, Astarion’s capable of laying a great deal out on the table with preventative clarity, but let’s be honest: he still has issues.
no subject
Hands settling on either side of her waist, bracketing the whole of her narrow form; a tugging touch without any tangibly driving purpose, thumbs resting heavily without ever harshly digging.]
What’s a safe word?
[One little beat before, with a light, sudden gasp of understanding:]
—oh, you mean that thing people do when they give up. Got it.
[Teasing, of course. Mostly.
True, Astarion’s capable of laying a great deal out on the table with preventative clarity, but let’s be honest: he still has issues.
Lots of them.]
I take it you’re staying, then?